


Staying Above Ground

by MissyJAnne85



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Prison, BAMF Women, Dark Comedy, Explicit Language, Exploring the Women in Harry Potter, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Femeslash, Grey!Hermione, If you don't laugh you cry, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Inspired by Orange is the New Black, Inspired by Wentworth, Lots of Secrets, M/F & F/F relationships, Mental Health Issues, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, No One Is Perfect, POV Hermione Granger, References to Addiction, References to Depression, Some characters who are alive may die, Some characters who are dead are now alive, What the fuck did Hermione do?, this is au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29489949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyJAnne85/pseuds/MissyJAnne85
Summary: I know this isn’t what you need right now - me pestering you...but fifteen years, Hermione? What’re you going to do? You have a plan, right?! Please write back, just tell me something, anything!**Sentenced to 15 years in prison... Hermione Granger has to adapt quickly and navigate her new life as an inmate of the Azkaban Correction Centre For Ladies.How will she survive staying above ground?
Relationships: Eventually.... - Relationship, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Susan Bones/Hermione Granger
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12
Collections: Evil Author Musings





	1. Chapter 1 - Processing...

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Evil Authors Day! #EvilAuthorsDay2021
> 
> I have zero update schedule planned, this will one day be complete - I have ten chapters in the vault and today I'm sharing three!
> 
> I wasn't going to share ANY OF IT until finished - I have been working not so secretly on this since September of 2020 and I am so excited to participate in Evil Authors Day with the hopes of gaining constructive feedback.....as well as giving this incredibly nervous writer an idea if anyone ACTUALLY wants to read this in its entirety! 
> 
> ***OFFICIAL DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form - I just like playing with the characters and in the wonderful world that JKR built. This is an AU heavily influenced with themes and concepts adapted from two T.V. Shows: 'Wentworth' and 'Orange Is The New Black' - I don't own either of them either *shrugs*. 
> 
> **ENDLESS GRATITUDE: They say "it takes a village" - well all of thanks and gratitude is at the end of this first chapter...if you make it that far you'll see why! 
> 
> There is a familiar saying in fandom - "Write the Fic You Want to Read" - well, this is mine. I hope you enjoy...

  
  
Chapter 1. Processing...

Hermione was cold, damp and terrified as she sat opposite the prison guard in a boat that sped across the ocean. She was cuffed on both ankles and wrists making jumping overboard suicidal. Drowning wasn’t an option - if she was going to take her own life, she wanted it to be quick. She chanced another quick glance at the guard. He was watching her with an intensity that made her physically ill. His face was familiar. She looked away. She knew she had gone to school with him but she just couldn’t place him. Hogwarts was a long time ago - nine years to be precise. 

A lot had changed in nine years.

Hermione swallowed the sob that threatened to escape her. No matter which way she assessed her circumstances, she knew her reputation was irreparably damaged.

There would be no future clients lined up outside her door looking for legal representation, begging her to be their advocate; to be represented by the _‘Honest and Just Gryffindor Golden Girl_ ’. She would be lucky if she could be a silent donor at this point - not that she had any money. Everything had been invested back into her foundation. She prayed her personal savings, what little she had left, would see her through an appeal. Her legal team had assured her they would get started straight away. She needed to inform her parents. 

Her parents. _Fuck_. 

The thought of their next conversation flooded her with dread and anxiety. It pooled in her gut, surged through her chest, and exploded up and out of her throat. She whimpered and was suddenly furious at the sound that had escaped her.

“Say something, Granger?” 

She knew that insolent, condescending tone and immediately connected the dots. 

“Nothing that concerns you, Smith.”

Smith. Zacharias Smith. He was given the responsibility of escorting her to prison. She tried to hide her shock at the sudden revelation. Zacharias leered at her with his beady, bloodshot eyes and she realised part of the reason she didn’t recognise him was due to his receding hairline and the noticeable paunch he now carried. 

Deep down, Hermione was satisfied with the knowledge that this idiotic D.A. deserter was still nothing more than a bottom feeder. And yet, she thought with dissatisfaction, having to be near him made her skin crawl. 

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Zacharias both looked and sounded positively gleeful as he watched Hermione with bright beady eyes. He reminded her of Peter Pettigrew.

Hermione said nothing.

“Rumour has it you’re doing extended time too.”

She clenched her jaw and watched as the island in the distance grew larger. She visibly shuddered and he chuckled at her obvious distress.

“Nearly there, Granger, nearly there.”

*

“Fuck off, Smith. You’re not needed for this part of the induction. The Governor told you to escort her, deliver her and then take your lunch break.”

“Aww Cho, don’t be such a cock block.”

“You want your itty-bitty-titty show? You can pay for it, now piss off!” She slammed the door in his face. “Creepy git, _worst_ part of this fucking job,” she muttered. In contrast to Smith, Cho Chang had barely aged in nine years. She unrolled a scroll of parchment, “Right, stand there. Let’s get these pleasantries out of the way. Please answer the following - Name?”

“Hermione Jean Granger.”

“Date of Birth?”

“Nineteenth of September, nineteen seventy-nine.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Height?”

“Five foot three.”

“Weight?”

“One hundred and twenty pounds.” 

“Tattoos?”

“No.”

“Scars? No wait, don’t bother answering that, I’ll make note as we go. Right, strip. You can place your clothes on the chair.”

“What?” Hermione blinked. Surely this wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t play dumb, Granger, it doesn’t suit you. Let’s not draw this out. Strip. I need to note down your scaring and do a cavity check. Now get on with it.”

“I can assure you I’m not smuggling anything - “

“Granger don’t make me _stupify_ you, the paperwork is exhausting.”

The thought of being unconscious and naked did its job and had Hermione unbuttoning her clothing. She slipped out of her black pumps, removed her specifically chosen court attire, her black lace bra and boy shorts knickers, and crossed her arms defensively.

“Ears,” said Cho. Her manner was cold and clinical. In the time it had taken Hermione to undress, she had set up a Quick Quotes Quill to continue writing her report. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Ears, Granger. Show me behind your ears.”

Her face flushed in embarrassment as she turned her head from one side to the other, thankful her nightmarish hair was already up, restrained and out of the way. Cho didn’t make any additional comments.

“Raise your arms.”

Hermione had never felt so exposed. Her eyes flooded with shame and embarrassment and she tried to block out the running commentary as Cho listed the imperfections on her body.

“...Scarring: right arm inner wrist - category: Word, English. Spelling: M.U.D.B.L.O.O.D. Sizing: 15.9 cm in length, 4cm in height. Characteristics: Cursed, raised, seems easily irritated. 

Scaring: Chest...”

Tears trickled down Hermione’s cheeks. She loathed how quickly her emotions would bubble to the surface and burst through uncontrollably. She hated her scars. She hated Dolohov. She hated Bellatrix. She hated her inability to associate her imperfections with any form of _bravery_ or _victory_. They were _ugly_ and she felt _mortified_ at not only having them on display but also having them officially documented.

“Alright now show me your hands, front and back. Good, no need to clip your nails. Turn around and lift each foot, I need to inspect the bottoms.”

Hermione turned, and followed the instructions given to her, first one foot then the other. Her mind whirled at the thought of all of the potential places one could conceal contraband. What could you smuggle in between your toes? Her thoughts were brought to a screaming halt at the next instruction. 

“Right. Bend over, spread your cheeks and cough.”

*

When Amelia Bones received news that Hermione Granger was being transferred to her prison, she thought they were having her on. Surely this was a joke. She knew of Ms. Granger’s legal proceedings, and that she was in the midst of a trial, but media and public access had been denied and all records were sealed and classified. There wasn’t even mention of a public statement. 

Looking at her now, Amelia couldn’t quite get a proper reading of the chit. Quite frankly, she looked like shit. But all prisoners did after being hosed down and doused in _Sanitation Solution_. Nasty stuff. The chit looked like a drowned rat and was dripping wet in front of her, hair stuck to her skin in a way that resembled a nest of descending serpents. She was shivering violently whilst rubbing in the _Sanitation Solution_ , an oily substance that left a green sheen behind, a result of the product being smeared into wet skin. It was a messy process designed to eliminate any possible infection or contamination; it humiliated the prisoners and also acted as a reminder to Amelia - these were criminals, the induction was ugly, as were the crimes that they had committed. 

Once she was done, Chang handed Ms. Granger a pile of prison issued clothing, stepped back into the shadows and looked to the Governor. That was her cue, she was very well rehearsed in this routine. Amelia cleared her throat and began. “Ms. Granger, within this Prison you belong to me and are my responsibility. In order for me to guarantee your safety – you are required to follow an established set of _rules_....and with your recent transgressions...let’s put it this way. Ms Granger, I don’t want you putting yourself in any situation that will result in you being _underground_. In order to stay _above_ ground you will follow the rules, which will be explained to you _in detail_ by your peer worker - she’ll find you and introduce herself. In the meantime I’ll advise you to remember these two things. Number One: Adhere to the schedule. I don’t take well to those who colour outside the lines - the schedule we have here is for the safety of yourself and those around you. Your conduct in society has stripped you of the privilege of using a wand. Despite this, we have allotted times and specific areas permitted for you to expel any excess magical energy. I don’t want to hear of you being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she paused to let it all sink in.

“Number Two: Build yourself a strong foundation. I won’t lie to you, Ms. Granger, you will experience **‘** culture shock’. Prison can be a lonely and dangerous place and it is best you make the effort to be amiable with those in your Cell Block. I won’t go so far as to say _‘they will become your family’_ , but it would be prudent to at least find some allies within these walls. Don’t expect to be able to ‘ _do your time’_ on your own. There are those in here who prey on women that choose to isolate themselves. It’s best you find at least one person in here who is willing to watch your back. Living within the facilities of A.C.C.L. will test your resilience like never before.”

“A.C.C.L.?” The chit looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and her lips had taken on a blue tinge. Her hair had started to frizz.

“Azkaban Correctional Centre for Ladies.” 

*

She was grateful they let her get dressed in the robes she arrived in before escorting her through the prison to her cell. Hermione held the laundry basket that contained her belongings close to her chest. Other than her prison issued uniform she didn’t have much and everything had to be on the approved list. They had provided her with toiletries and toilet paper - she nearly cried when she saw the inclusion of toothpaste. 

Chang kept a brisk pace and suddenly she was led outside and across a crowded yard. She felt like an eyesore in a sea of prison issued purple. The colour reminded her of the furniture upholstery featured in her parents first dental clinic. Hermione searched for familiarity and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Not so _golden_ anymore are you Granger?” Millicent Bulstrode called out.

“The only gold she’s good for is a _golden shower_!” Shrieked Pansy Parkinson who then tilted her head back and cackled loudly at her own joke. Bulstrode and those surrounding her joined in and suddenly everyone was aware of Hermione’s presence.

_“Hey Granger! How long’s your stay?”_

_“Hey Granger! Way to fuck up your life!”_

Her eyes remained focused on Chang and her grip tightened on her belongings. She prayed to whoever was listening that she wouldn’t do something stupid like trip. 

“Keep up,” snapped Chang and before she knew it she was safely inside. “This is your cell: you’ve been placed in C Block. You can unpack and I suggest you get changed. Your peer worker will be along shortly.” Chang left before she could ask who that was.

She was alone. For the first time since arriving in this godforsaken place, she was alone. She was alone and she was in Azkaban. Fuck the name change, it was still Azkaban! What if her cell had previously belonged to a Death Eater? She dropped her basket as the panic suddenly took over. She was struggling to breathe and could only manage quick snatches of air as her legs crippled beneath her and she collapsed beside her bed. She couldn’t see through the tears. Her face was wet, her body was trembling and...

“Hermione? Oh no... _Oh_ _shit_! Hermione, Hermione look at me - look at me and _breathe_.”

Hermione wiped her eyes and lifted her head. Her vision now clear, she recognised the familiar face of Ginny Weasley.


	2. Chapter 2 - Learning the ropes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FUN CONTINUES:
> 
> Happy Evil Authors Day! #EvilAuthorsDay2021
> 
> I have zero update schedule planned but I promise this will one day be complete - Here's chapter two of three!
> 
> I am so excited to participate in Evil Authors Day with the hopes of gaining constructive feedback.....as well as giving this incredibly nervous writer an idea if anyone ACTUALLY wants to read this in its entirety!
> 
> ***OFFICIAL DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form - I just like playing with the characters and in the wonderful world that JKR built. This is an AU heavily influenced with themes and concepts adapted from two T.V. Shows: 'Wentworth' and 'Orange Is The New Black' - I don't own either of them either *shrugs*.
> 
> **ENDLESS GRATITUDE: They say "it takes a village" - well all of thanks and gratitude is at the end of this chapter...if you make it that far you'll see why!
> 
> There is a familiar saying in fandom - "Write the Fic You Want to Read" - well, this is mine. I hope you enjoy...

Chapter 2 - Learning the ropes...

Hermione’s head was in Ginny’s lap and she was curled up on the floor. She was emotionally and physically drained. Ginny was rubbing her back in soothing circular motions.

“You aren’t the first this has happened to, so don’t feel the need to beat yourself up once you start to feel better.” The advice was stated as fact, rather than a polite kindness.

“Oh?” Hermione croaked.

Ginny sounded weary. “It’s true. The same thing happened to mum when she first arrived.”

_“Molly’s here?!”_

“Yes,” she nodded. “You’ve missed out on a lot. Mum decided to play the hero...Guess it’s working since I’m sober. She’s in C Block too.”

Hermione forced herself into a sitting position, still trying to wrap her head around the concept of Molly Weasley in prison. “Ron never mentioned it…Why wouldn’t he mention something so important?”

“Hermione, it happened when you were away. You were happy doing your thing...please don’t give me that look. The family was embarrassed enough over my charges.”

It was true. Hermione remembered. The press had been brutal. 

_‘Harpies Rising Star Ginny Weasley Falls From Grace - Found Guilty of Possession and Misuse.’_

_‘Are the Rumours True? Ginny Weasley Accused of Selling E.C. - Nimbus Cancel Multi-Galleon Endorsement Deal and Others Companies Are Sure To Follow.”_

_‘Ginny Weasley Sentenced To Additional Time - Rumoured Locker Room Dealings Found True._ ’

_‘Naked Pictures Surface of Ginny Weasley - Harry Potter Calls Off Engagement.’_

“What did your mum do?” Hermione asked, still in shock.

“You can ask her yourself. I still don’t even know what you did to land yourself in here. The Prophet hasn’t published any details other than your sentence. _Fifteen years Hermione?_ What the fuck have you got yourself into? You fall into the category of a level four felony.”

“I can’t talk about it; my case is sealed and I can’t risk jeopardising my appeal.” She suddenly gasped. Her appeal. Oh _fuck_. “Oh noooo...Ginny! I forgot to contact my parents! They have no idea that I’m fucking in here! Do you know how to go about asking for a floo call?!”

“We can see Chang and she can put in a request. Get changed and I’ll give you a tour. Here, make sure you wear this at all times.” She handed Hermione a purple hand-knitted scarf.

“You’re going to explain the accessory right?” Hermione asked as she got changed. She chose purple tracksuit pants and a shapeless white t-shirt. 

For the first time, she noticed Ginny’s purple floor-length skirt and plain white t-shirt. She too wore a purple knitted scarf as well as a purple knitted bucket hat. Both were clearly made by Molly.

“Come on. If I wait for you to be ready, you’ll never leave your cell.” She helped Hermione stand and led her out the door.

——

Ginny directed Hermione out of her cell into the centre of the cell block. She was surrounded either side by a total of twelve cells. The area was squared off with a kitchenette along the back wall. In the centre was a communal table allocated with six chairs. 

“I guess you could call this area a shitty sort of common room. We’ll usually gather here at night, share a cup of tea and have a chat or read. Mum knits.” She huffed out a laugh, “You’re in for a shock – a pleasant one but still a shock – as you’ve probably guessed you’re in here with Mum…but you’re also in here with Andy, Luna and me. The cell next to yours is empty. Previous tenant made parole last week.” 

Hermione gaped at Ginny. Her expression reflected shock and utter disbelief. “WHAT? Andromeda and _Luna_?!”

“I’ll admit Andromeda was a surprise but Luna…are you really that shocked? I don’t fully understand why she is in here other than that whole ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time’ bullshit…Says she was looking for Merlin knows what…It’s endangered I know that much, but she’ll be out of here soon. Luna’s eligible for parole…she’s just waiting for her official release date to be finalised. Then she’s getting out!” It was the first time Hermione saw Ginny smile and resemble the girl she once knew. 

*

Ginny had led her to the doors closest to the entrance. Azkaban was shaped like a pentagram. The guards lounge, governor’s office, visitation area and prisoners processing area all happened at the highest point. If you remembered that, you could walk your way around to the different blocks in a clockwise direction. There were four blocks – A, B, C and D. Ginny confirmed that there were twelve cells per block, which totalled forty-eight prisoners when the Prison was at full capacity.

As they walked, Ginny pointed out the other prison facilities. “If the exterior of this building is shaped like a star, imagine all the facilities fitting inside it, laid out like another smaller star that’s been flipped upside down…next to the warden’s office, you’ve got what we call the work hub: the owlery, the mailroom, the laundry, the sewing room, storage spaces for cleaning equipment and then there is what we call ‘the general store’...you can get things like additional snacks, clove cigarettes - which is the only vice mum will let me have, magazines - but you pay a premium and to me it’s just not worth it, general women’s hygiene products, additional toiletries and toilet paper - in case you run out…which reminds me, do you have any money?”

Hermione’s head tilted in confusion. “Money? Why? No, I don’t.”

“Thought I’d ask just in case. They’ll be setting you up a prison account, of course, and once it’s finalised, you’ll be able to access it. You can buy a favour off of Cho - she’s willing to smuggle many-a-coin home in her bra.” Ginny smirked, leaned in and whispered her eyes flashing with mirth, “the girls here call her _Sugar Tits_ behind her back. Someone said that her tits jingle once she’s home in her knickers and the uniform’s off.” She wiggled her brows.

Hermione looked scandalised “Who?”

Ginny abruptly stopped them walking as they came up short outside the prison library. “I can’t say. And you can’t repeat anything I’ve just said to a guard, either. That’s one thing you can never do in here, Hermione - you never _dob_ , you never _tell_ on _anyone_. No matter what. Credibility is currency here. If you lose it with the women you’ll be known as a _sprag,_ may as well have the fucking Dragon Pox. I can’t be associated with you if your credibility is gone - you’ll be _fucked_. I can’t stress that enough! Do you understand?” She was pale and her freckles stood out. Hermione had never seen her face look so haggard and gaunt. She may be sober but Ginny was clearly still unwell.

“Guess that’s Rule Number One. Governor Bones said you would tell me the rules.” Hermione attempted to inflict some humour in her tone. It didn’t work.

“I’m not _joking_ Hermione - tell me you understand!”

“I do! No dobbing of any kind. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Credibility is currency. Got it.”

“Good.” Ginny tucked a ratty stray lock of damaged hair behind her ears. “Right. The Rules. Let’s go over them while I show you the reading lounge. Don’t get your knickers wet, the library is not that exciting. You may want to sit down while we go over everything though.”

Ginny led Hermione into the library. It was a dishevelled mess of damaged texts. The Prison was apparently running a Recycled Text Restoration Program aimed at collecting old damaged books, reviving them and donating them to war orphans and shelters. The library also had a subpar collection of general fiction, a handful of approved _light_ magical texts (mainly covering domestic household chores) and a random assortment of Mills and Boon Muggle paperbacks. The stacks were just depressing. 

Ginny guided them to a table at the back near the library checkout and prompted Hermione to sit down. Encouraging her to drag her chair close, she started speaking in a hushed whisper. “Okay, here’s what you need to know. Every prisoner in here is expected to adhere to the basics. That means following the set schedule, being respectful towards the guards, making sure you are _in_ your Cell Block upon curfew and standing outside your own cell for count.” Ginny paused for breath before she continued. “It also means making sure you aren’t in any possession of any contraband - “

“Contraband?” Hermione squeaked. 

“Hush…Yes. Technically that is anything likely to cause death or likely injury. In here that means no wands, shivs, drugs, potion ingredients, powders of any kind, no gum, no alcohol...nothing liquid that’s flammable now that I think about it. I can’t think of anything else…if I do, I’ll be sure to tell you - where was I? Oh yes, if they catch you with any form of contraband at best, you’ll lose basic privileges such as visitation and sending or receiving owls. At worst you’ll end up _underground_.” She violently shuddered. 

“What does that mean? _Underground_. The Governor mentioned it.” Hermione tilted her head in curiosity.

Ginny leaned in closer. “Well, you know how Sirius escaped...because he was an animagus, and then there was the break out of all the other Death Eaters?”

“Yes.” Hermione was nervous.

“Well. They’ve built cells underground, in the main Yard. If you misbehave or show disrespect, they stick you in the bowels of the prison and you’re dragged down there in front of everyone! It’s horrific. There’s no bathroom - they make you piss in a bucket or on yourself - there’s no shower and you can’t even cast a _scourgify_. As far as I know, you can’t use _any_ magic down there. You can’t even _see_. There’s no possible way of escaping. They insured it this time...and the kind of darkness that penetrates the walls down there, the energy that the dementors left behind…if your mind is prone to wandering...There’s a reason why anyone who goes _underground_ , never comes back the same.”

They were both silent as Hermione absorbed the information. She didn’t know if she could survive her demons in the dark, and resolved to never put herself in a position that would lead to her being underground. 

Ginny cleared her throat. “Yes, well. That’s covered. Let’s move on - literally.” They left the library and continued clockwise past B Block and towards the kitchen and dining hall. The corridors were sparse, no decorations or personality. The prison had grey linoleum floors that were squeaky clean, bluestone walls and a scattering of small, barred, narrow windows. They functioned to let in natural light and offered a view of the yard that Hermione had crossed earlier. It was deserted now. 

“The positives,” Ginny continued, “Let’s see…If you maintain standard behaviour it can lead to increased privileges. If you follow the rules your privileges can increase from ‘basic’ to ‘standard’ or ‘enhanced’. That’s rare…But by meeting the ‘standard’ behaviour expectations I was allowed to apply for the position of ‘Peer Worker’. It also increases my chances of getting parole.” Ginny said this almost as if she was reminding herself, silently reaffirming her determination to get out. “There are other incentives too - You can have access to private cash, which is always handy...and I got an increase in family visits,” for the second time Ginny smiled. “I was able to go with mum to see dad. I could physically show him that I was better…that I was doing well.” She sniffed and quickly swiped under her eye then quietly chuckled. “Who knows Hermione, maybe they might let you apply to work in The Library if you play your cards right. You could really turn that shithole around. Hmm, what else...oh! You can also get more time outside your cell.”

Time outside? _Wandless magic_. Hermione’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “What’s the environment like outside? The Governor mentioned something about expelling excess magic. I imagine that could lead to trouble,” Hermione bit her lip with worry but then relaxed as Ginny shook her head.

“No need to worry in that regard. The wards here are able to recognise all forms of magical intent. They suppress any kind of violent or aggressive spell and, as you know, wandless magic is extremely difficult. Most women count themselves lucky if they can succeed at basic glamour charms. You’ll notice appearances are very important here. Being groomed is a sign of power.”

Hermione groaned “Merlin’s beard! Pleeease tell me you’re joking? It was bad enough living with Lavender Brown for five years…glamour charms?!”

“Yep. You’ll also notice the subtle variation of the uniform too. I hate this uniform…the colour clashes horribly with my hair. But, at least we aren’t wearing house colours.” Ginny tugged on the purple knitted scarf she had handed Hermione earlier. “This is from mum. Like I said before, it’s important you wear it. It means you’re affiliated with us.” 

“What do you mean? Did she know I was coming?”

“Not officially, she knew we were getting another cellmate. I’m not going to sugar-coat this for you - there are _gangs_ in here Hermione. How much did you notice outside when you walked across the yard?”

“Not much, I tried to block everything out after I saw Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.”

“Did you notice what they were wearing?” Ginny enquired.

Hermione shook her head in the negative.

“Okay, here’s how it works. Pansy’s gang, they’re referred to as the ‘New Guard’. Anyone in Pansy’s crew - you’ll recognise them by their short skirt. They’re known for flashing as much leg and tit as they can get away with. At the moment she is standing in as High Priestess so you make sure you don’t piss her off - “

“Did you just say - “

“Pay attention!” Ginny snapped. “I’ll get to that later. This is _not_ about fashion, it’s about learning who you need to stay away from.” 

They were approaching the kitchen and the eating hall. Hermione could hear the murmur of voices and clanks of cutlery. For the first time, she was aware of sound. Ginny stopped her a few feet short of the entrance. 

“You also need to watch out for the ‘Old Guard’ - they’re the wives and sisters of known Death Eaters and blood purists. They wear their skirts long with a thigh-high slit and fingerless gloves. It costs them major privileges upon arrival, but they can afford the cost...So can Pansy for that matter. You’re a part of C Block though, which means you’ll be automatically associated with mum. She’s the head of what’s known as ‘The Kitchen Crew’. The position was given to her due to good behaviour and hard work. She’s worked her way up and now she runs it.” Ginny ran both hands down her face and tilted her head back. She breathed in a deep breath through her nose and sighed heavily. “If anyone ever predicted this life for me when we were at Hogwarts...that one day I’d be in prison with my mum who has street cred and runs the kitchen in Azkaban...I would have laughed my fucking arse off and then punched them. Instead, I’m telling you that mum - _my_ mum - has some respect in Azkaban due to the quality of her cooking. Get on her bad side and she can make you miss meals...starvation is no joke,” she added bitterly. “We don’t bother manipulating our clothing. We can’t afford to lose status or privilege. The Kitchen Crew wear standard uniform and add something mum has knitted - a scarf, hat, gloves…if you notice someone wearing something made by mum you know that person is reliable.”

“Okay...you said something about Pansy standing in as High Priestess?”

“Yes. Hermione, I want you to know that what I’m saying is one hundred percent serious. The High Priestess is the most powerful prisoner _in_ here. She runs the owlery, if you cross her she can cut off your contact with the outside world - so you stay out of trouble.” She looked at Hermione with a fierce intensity that scared her. She was afraid to ask, but she knew she had to.

“Ginny, who is the High Priestess?”

“Bellatrix Black.”

————

For those curious about my fancast - check out this glorious image:  
  
"The animals, the animals

Trap, trap, trap 'til the cage is full...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this incredibly nervous writer....Thank you to my 'villiage' of supporters:
> 
> Many thanks to AkaiaOwl and Raven_Maiden for holding my hand from across the globe and being there in the beginning.
> 
> Thanks to Ribbonofsunshine for helping me polish my very first WIP with her incredible beta superpowers.
> 
> Thanks to my fandom Ride or Die alphabet: WhatSoMalfoy and CaitlinCheri28 who encourage and support me in all things fandom and beyond.
> 
> To Frumpologist for introducing me to the world of NaNoWriMo and also invited me to hang out with the wonderful writers at The Sanctum of (in)Sanity.
> 
> To all the amazing artists in HP FANDOM who have fueled my muse! THANK YOU! Cover Credits go to Talon Willow who created this incredible manip of my fancast and made it resemble the credits of OITNB!
> 
> Thanks to every single reader who has got this far and taken a chance on my fic xxx


	3. Chapter 3 - The Kitchen Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FUN CONTINUES:
> 
> Happy Evil Authors Day! #EvilAuthorsDay2021
> 
> I have zero update schedule planned but I promise this will one day be complete - Here's chapter three of three!!!
> 
> I am so excited to participate in Evil Authors Day with the hopes of gaining constructive feedback.....as well as giving this incredibly nervous writer an idea if anyone ACTUALLY wants to read this in its entirety!
> 
> ***OFFICIAL DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form - I just like playing with the characters and in the wonderful world that JKR built. This is an AU heavily influenced with themes and concepts adapted from two T.V. Shows: 'Wentworth' and 'Orange Is The New Black' - I don't own either of them either *shrugs*.
> 
> **ENDLESS GRATITUDE: They say "it takes a village" - well all of thanks and gratitude is at the end of this chapter...if you make it that far you'll see why!
> 
> There is a familiar saying in fandom - "Write the Fic You Want to Read" - well, this is mine. I hope you enjoy...

Chapter 3 - The Kitchen Crew

Who the _fuck_ decided to make Bellatrix Black High Priestess?! _Bellatrix Black..._ Not Lestrange? Bellatrix Black was in prison with Hermione. Her thoughts started to spiral faster and faster. When she thought about it, Hermione wasn’t really surprised that Bellatrix hadn’t kept her husband’s name. Her loyalty and heart belonged to that sick _fuck_ \- He Who Is Dead And Buried And Finally Fucking Gone. But, Bellatrix had tortured her and Hermione couldn’t forget...Bellatrix had left her permanently disfigured. Bellatrix had sliced into her skin and -

“Hermione, you need to breathe!” Ginny was clutching her hands so tightly, the pain brought her back into her body. She had stopped breathing. She gulped in air so violently she triggered a coughing fit and Ginny’s concerned face came back into focus as she slowly rubbed her back.

“When we walk in there am I going to see her?” Hermione croaked.

“No. She’s underground. Thank Merlin...I hope she rots in there. Come on, let’s go get you something to eat and we can say a quick hello to mum and the Kitchen Crew.”

“All right.” 

*

The dining hall was polar opposite to the Great Hall in Hogwarts. There was no ambiance and no warmth. Like the rest of the prison, the floors were a grey linoleum and the walls were bluestone and bare. Ginny directed Hermione to a station that housed stacked plastic meal trays, plastic cutlery, and thin paper napkins. There was a separate station by the far wall offering vats of coffee or tea along with jugs of water, with the option of a plastic cup or mug depending on your choice of beverage. 

“We line up for food over there. Mum is in charge of service and has a rotating roster at the buffet station. She likes to make sure the jobs in the kitchen don’t get stale.”

The reunion with Molly and Luna took place over the stainless-steel service counter. The food had a sneeze guard, the women serving wore hairnets and the line progressed quickly. 

“Hermione, dear! You’re wearing my scarf, that’s good. Make sure you eat up, we’ll talk later tonight. Ginny you make sure you look after her.” Molly’s no-fuss attitude regarding Hermione’s sudden appearance set the tone for others working behind the serving station. 

“Hello Hermione, we’re serving tomato soup today. It’s very good for your overall heart health.” Luna Lovegood smiled a gentle smile as she placed a steaming bowl carefully on Hermione’s tray which was then slid along to Andromeda. She placed a wrapped sandwich on the tray and gave Hermione a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Hello Hermione, vegetarian right?”

“Yes, thank you Mrs Tonks.” Hermione nodded in confirmation.

“You can call me Andy in here. Us C Block girls best stick together.”

The tray continued its way across the service line. The interaction was swift and efficient, a clear reflection of Molly’s work ethic. Along with the soup and sandwich, Hermione was provided with an orange, a fruit juice box and a tub of yogurt. _Strawberry_. Hermione looked up at Molly who gave her a wink.

“Mum’s always been able to stretch a tight budget. You’re lucky you never have to swallow the shit they served up before she took over. Come on, I’ll show you where we sit to eat.” Ginny pointed toward the far corner with her elbow.

The dining hall had eight plastic picnic tables surrounded with the type of chairs that didn’t encourage you to stay six per table. The general atmosphere was tense, and the women were unsettled. Hermione listened to the sporadic laughter, secretive chatter, and carefully observed the noticeable cliques. She also noticed a few empty tables. Not everyone was here yet.

Hermione was overwhelmingly grateful she had Ginny as her peer worker. The thought of being here alone, or with a stranger trying to navigate this place on her own...she stopped herself from thinking about it. 

An old woman was sitting at the table Ginny was guiding her towards. She was wearing a purple woolen bucket hat, likely belonging to Molly. Ginny smiled as she sat down opposite her and spoke in a louder voice than normal, “Hello Doris.”

“Hello love, nice fair today. The soup is particularly tasty. Did you help your mother make it?” 

Doris was approximately eighty years old, a bit hard of hearing and smelt strongly of clove cigarettes. She had stained fingers and yellowish teeth. Her voice was sweet yet raspy and her eyes twinkled in an eerie way that reminded Hermione of Albus Dumbledore. The woman had clearly seen a lot.

“I helped with yesterday’s kitchen prep. Mum always makes the final adjustments to anything we serve though. If it tastes good it’s because of her. I’m looking forward to it too.” Ginny adjusted her tray and organised the items from hottest to coldest then smallest to largest. “Doris, I’d like you to meet Hermione, she’ll be living with us in C Block. Hermione, meet Doris. She lives in the cell next to mum. She also works in the Library and is in charge of overseeing the bookbinding and restorations program.” 

“Hello Doris, nice to meet you. You work in the Library, how lovely.” Hermione’s voice was too bright and she fiddled awkwardly with her cutlery. She internally cursed and arranged her napkin on her lap then sat on her hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking. She focused on slowing down her breathing.

“Yes, I work in the Library, if you can even _call_ it that…Place is a bloody _shithole_ if you ask me. The rooms we’re assigned to preserve in are too damp, the binding glue smells like cat piss, I’m stuck with stupid bints who don’t give a _fuck_ about the work,” she took a noisy slurp of tea, “and the books we mend are as intellectually stimulating as one of my smelly old farts.”

Ginny grinned at Hermione’s startled expression as Doris carefully lowered her tea back to the table. “Doris was the first friend I made here. She tells it how it is whether you like it or not…reminds me of you. You know, if you work hard Hermione and go after those extra privileges, you and Doris here could be a force of nature.”

“Like books do you girlie?” Doris gave Hermione a piercing look.

Hermione flushed, “yes ma’am, I’ve been told a little too much.” 

Doris said nothing and her stare lingered uncomfortably long. Hermione tried not to fidget and finally, Doris broke her silence, “I’ll keep you in mind, but it means fuck all if you don’t keep your nose clean. Ferals and dreamers don’t make it into the Library.”

“In the meantime, I’m sure mum will put in a good word for you in the Kitchen,” Ginny pipped in reassuringly. “You’ll find out where you’re assigned soon enough, but it doesn’t hurt to put in a good word with Cho, right Doris? I’m sure mum will arrange it.”

“She’s a good egg, your mum. You girls enjoy your lunch. I’m off - gonna suck one of these suckers down before work.” Doris stood up and untucked 2 clove cigarettes from behind her ear, winking she flicked one at Ginny. “Don’t tell your mum.” Doris stood up and Hermione noticed just how tiny she was, under five foot and lean. Despite her age, Doris moved swiftly and silently out of the hall.

“She seems nice,” said Hermione.

Ginny chuckled. “Yes, she’s very nice to those she cares about...She’s also the type of prisoner who can arrange to have you shivved in your sleep. Never let your guard down, Hermione…Even if you’re willing to gamble your life on that person’s loyalty, it pays to be careful. Constant Vigilance and all that rot.”

Hermione nodded and made a start on her soup. It felt like a hug in a bowl. The familiarity of Molly’s cooking made her want to cry but she couldn’t afford to. She glanced across the dining hall to see how many of Molly’s knitted garments stood out. Movement at the entrance caught her attention instead.

Alecto Carrow pushed open the door to the Dining Hall and held it open for Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione nearly dropped her soup spoon. The duo made a striking pair; Narcissa’s hair was still startling blond but now cropped short. Her face was hard and she moved with deadly poise. Alecto had the physique of a female bodybuilder: her black shoulder-length hair was sleek and her bangs were blunt, framing her menacing expression. Both Narcissa and Alecto wore fingerless purple lace gloves that went all the way up to their biceps. Hermione could see Narcissa’s toned leg peek through a thigh-high slit in her prison issues skirt. She found herself unconsciously correcting her posture. She watched as they parted ways, Narcissa walking to the drinks station while Alecto organised their trays at the serving area. Neither one gravitated toward or said anything to anyone else. 

“Hermione, Narcissa goes by ‘Black’ in here too. Don’t _ever_ call her by her married name.” Whispered Ginny, following Hermione’s line of sight. 

“What’s Ale – “

“Not in here...let’s finish our lunch and you can ask all your questions later.” 

Hermione picked up her orange and began peeling it in silence, her eyes glued firmly to her tray for the rest of the meal.

*

They turned left outside the kitchen and Ginny quizzed her, “Do you know where we are?”

“This is our area, C Block, right?” Hermione hesitantly guessed as they walked close to the entrance.

“Yes, good. If you get disorientated just remember that we’re left of The Kitchens which is directly opposite the main entrance…We’ll just move on – “

Hermione pulled her up short, “Ginny what’s that near the gate? It looks like a button.” It was red, round and stuck out against a silver rectangular sheet of metal that was screwed into the wall. Hermione guessed it was positioned just below the height of her shoulders. There was no sign indicating what it was for.

“That’s the panic button. Hermione...whatever you do, whatever you see…you don’t ever press it. Remember, snitches get stitches.”

“But - “

Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand and dragged her out of sight of the Panic Button. They moved in the direction of the Shower Block. “If you have an issue, go to mum. She’ll talk to the High Priestess on your behalf. We keep the guards out of our business as much as possible, Hermione. So _don’t_ fucking press it.”

“But Bellatrix is underground. Does that mean Narcissa is High Priestess now?” Hermione asked. 

With that question, it was like Hermione had summoned trouble. Pansy’s crew made a sudden exit from the Shower Block. Pansy was flanked either side by Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass stood close to her sister. All four women had damp tousled hair, smoked-out eyes and glossy lips. They wore purple skirts that indecently skimmed their thighs and tiny white tops displaying young perky tits and brightly coloured bra straps. They could have graced the cover of Play Witch Magazine. 

“Narcissa isn’t acting as High Priestess, Granger. That’d be me.” Pansy Parkinson said with a salacious grin. “Need a tour of the bathroom? You don’t mind waiting here do you Weasley? We’ll be quick, won’t we Millie?” Both women passed their toiletries to the Greengrass sisters who had silently cornered Ginny.

“Very quick. Come here Granger,” Millicent snatched Hermione’s arm and dragged her aggressively into the bathroom.

*

She was shoved into a shower cubicle, wet tiles soaked through her shirt and across her back. A home-made shiv was pressed against her throat. Millicent Bulstrode's hands were steady as she held the blade and Hermione in place. 

“I’m not sure if Weasleys told you the specifics yet,” said Pansy, drawing Hermione’s attention away from the shive. She was casually inspecting her flawless manicure, completely at ease and relishing the feeling of being in control. “You should know that The High Priestess controls the delivery of every prisoner’s mail. Her and her selected team have the job of looking after the owls, maintaining the owlery, and are in charge of delivering the pre-screened mail on behalf of the Governor. Have you submitted your contact list yet, Granger?”

“My wha -“

“Keep up, Granger!” Pansy snapped. “Your contacts list - who you _want_ contacting _you_ from the outside. The list of names is submitted to The Governor for approval. Have you submitted yours yet?!”

“N-n-no!”

“Good. You’ll be adding the name Theodore Nott to that list. He’ll be sending you a birthday card of sorts and you’ll give it to _me_ when it arrives, okay? Good. Oh, and Granger...if I find out you haven’t, I’ll be keeping _all_ your correspondence...Potty, Weasel, your lawyers…all of it.” She leant in and kissed Hermione’s cheek with sticky lips. “Welcome to Azkaban Correctional Centre for Ladies, Granger...don’t know why they sent you here though…you’re nothing but a _filthy_ Mudblood cunt. No one could _possibly_ make a lady out of you. Come on Millie, let’s go.” Millicent removed the shiv, turned on the tap and left Hermione shivering under running water. Pansy’s laughter echoed and bounced off the ceramic tiles. 

\-------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this incredibly nervous writer....Thank you to my 'village' of supporters:
> 
> Many thanks to AkaiaOwl and Raven_Maiden for holding my hand from across the globe and being there in the beginning.
> 
> Thanks to Ribbonofsunshine for helping me polish my very first WIP with her incredible beta superpowers.
> 
> Thanks to my fandom Ride or Die alphabet: WhatSoMalfoy and CaitlinCheri28 who encourage and support me in all things fandom and beyond.
> 
> To Frumpologist for introducing me to the world of NaNoWriMo and also invited me to hang out with the wonderful writers at The Sanctum of (in)Sanity.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing artists in fandom who have gifted me such precious artwork that has fueled my muse! THANK YOU!
> 
> Thanks to every single reader who has got this far and taken a chance on my fic xxx

**Author's Note:**

> From this incredibly nervous writer....Thank you to my 'village' of supporters:
> 
> Many thanks to AkaiaOwl and Raven_Maiden for holding my hand from across the globe and being there in the beginning.
> 
> Thanks to Ribbonofsunshine for helping me polish my very first WIP with her incredible beta superpowers.
> 
> Thanks to my fandom Ride or Die alphabet: WhatSoMalfoy and CaitlinCheri28 who encourage and support me in all things fandom and beyond.
> 
> To Frumpologist for introducing me to the world of NaNoWriMo and also invited me to hang out with the wonderful writers at The Sanctum of (in)Sanity.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing artists Talon Willow and Lumos Lyra who gifted me such precious artwork that has fueled my muse! THANK YOU!
> 
> Thanks to every single reader who has got this far and taken a chance on my fic xxx


End file.
